


Healing

by 73stargazer



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 21:25:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3993415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/73stargazer/pseuds/73stargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post ep for  “Chain of Command”. Sequel to “Atonement” . Beverly helps Jean-Luc recover after his  confinement on Celtris III</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing

**Author's Note:**

> For Lindsay. Ask and ye shall receive.

Letting herself into the captain’s cabin, Beverly is taken aback to find it dark and quiet. Padding across the room, Beverly crosses the room quietly, med kit in hand, to the bedroom.

Jean-Luc had called her only a moment ago, breathless, requesting her presence in the middle of the night. Beverly hadn’t even bothered to change out of her nightgown. She had thrown a robe over her nightgown, slipped on a pair of slippers, grabbed her med kit and dashed down the corridor at two hundred hours in the morning without a second thought. 

Ducking into the bedroom, Beverly finds Jean-Luc upright in the bed, illuminated by the starlight from the viewport, a thin layer of sweat covering his bare chest. She pads over to the bed, laying the med kit on the floor. 

“Beverly, I’m sorry,” apologizes Jean-Luc hoarsely, running his tongue over his dry lips. 

“Don’t apologize,” Beverly tells him, lowering herself onto the edge of the bed, reaching for his bare shoulder. Visually evaluating his state, Beverly runs her hand along the clammy skin of his shoulder and collarbone, giving a gentle squeeze. “You couldn’t sleep?” 

Meeting her questioning, concerned eyes, Jean-Luc frowns. “I was dreaming.”

“Celtris III?” questions Beverly knowingly, moving her hand to his neck, feeling his pulse. 

Briefly breaking eye contact, Jean-Luc swallows hard. “Are you alright?”

Blinking rapidly, Beverly splays her hand across his chest. “Me? Yes, I’m fine, Jean-Luc.”

Covering her hand, Jean-Luc re-captures her eyes. “What did he do? Did he hurt you?” 

“Who?” asks Beverly in confusion, inching closer, placing her free hand on top of his, rubbing it soothingly. 

“Madred,” coughs Jean-Luc, his voice choking in his throat. 

Eyes dilating, Beverly shakes her head, squeezing his hand laying over hers on his chest. “Jean-Luc, he never touched me. We weren’t held captive. Worf and I escaped.”

Exhaling a shaky, ragged breath, Jean-Luc rests his forehead against hers, lacing their fingers together. 

“Jean-Luc,” breathes Beverly, squeezing his hand. “I’m fine.”

Letting out a ragged breath, Jean-Luc closes his eyes briefly. “ Beverly…”

Laying her other hand across his cheek, closes her own eyes, feeling the grief radiating from his features. “It’s okay, Jean-Luc.”

Jean-Luc presses his lips to hers, overwhelmed with an urge to feel as much of her skin as possible. He knows she’s here, but he’s having a hard time comprehending that the whole ordeal is truly over, that Beverly is real and whole and unharmed. The need to feel her flesh, solid beneath his fingertips, is powerful. 

Opening her eyes at the feel of his lips parting hers, Beverly cradles his cheek. Jean-Luc’s tongue urgently begs for admission, the tentative start to the kiss quickly turning passionate. Somewhat surprised, Beverly is overwhelmed by all the sensations, the desperation in Jean-Luc’s urgent embrace. But, the need, the ache for him that had been long repressed, is re-awakened when his hand entangles in her hair and their tongues begin an intimate dance. 

 

Jean-Luc is over-powered by the need to have more of her, kissing her deeply, passionately. He had never experienced this, but his rational, typically in control self is supplanted by the need to have her in his arms, be assured that she is present, safe; that she is his. Weaving his hand in her fiery locks, Jean-Luc drops a hand to her hip.

Drawing back slightly, Beverly breaks off, panting lightly. Momentarily re-grouping, she bends down to brush her lips over the ridge of his collarbone, her tongue tasting the salt of his skin. Trailing a hot, wet path to his neck with her tongue, her heart palpitates wildly against her chest. His hands gripping her buttocks, Jean-Luc pulls Beverly closer. Rotating his head, her softly curled red locks fall against his face and his hands slide slowly up the smooth curve of her back, then over her shoulders and neck to gently cradle her face between his hands. Thumbs tenderly stroking her cheeks as he studies her face, Jean-Luc’s breath hitches in his throat, momentarily overcome by the emotion of the moment. He can hardly fathom that they are actually here, intimately embracing. After everything they had experienced, he is infinitely grateful, and in disbelief.

Closing his eyes briefly, Jean-Luc lowers his lips to hers, and Beverly moans softly at the delicious contact. The desperation, the ardor of the moment is leaving them them both breathless, panting, aching. Breaking off, Beverly smiles invitingly,warmly up at him, her sapphire eyes darkened in desire. 

“Beverly, I want you,” Jean-Luc rumbles, voice thick with desire, against her ear, one hand shrugging the robe from her shoulders. Smiling against his cheek, Beverly moans her acquiescence as Jean-Luc deftly sheds her robe, tossing it aimlessly over the bed. His fingers fumble for the buttons at the neckline of her nightgown, opening the gown and revealing the ivory swell of her breasts. Lowering her arms, Beverly shrugs and Jean-Luc slips the satin gown from her body. Pausing, Jean-Luc soaks in the sight of her naked form bathed in starlight from the viewport over the bed as he abandons the satin garment over the side of the bed. Drawing her into his arms, Jean-Luc melds the length of her body against his. Staring mischievously into his darkened hazel eyes, Beverly murmurs,"Sit back.”

A low groan escaping his lips, Jean-Luc slowly lays back onto the bed, Beverly sliding her body atop of his, peppering his collarbone in kisses. Beverly runs her hands down his chest, coming to a rest on his hips as she gracefully slides down his body, leaving behind a hot, wet trail of burning kisses. Beverly grasps Jean-Luc’s growing erection in her hand, watching his head loll back and a strained cry escape his lips. Averting her eye to hungrily focus on the object of her concentration, she lowers her head and places her mouth over his pulsating erection, letting out a slow, hot breath.

 

Affording herself a quick glance up, Beverly finds Jean-Luc’s face awash with undisguised desire, his dark hazel eyes glazed with desperate need. Jean-Luc’s fingers are gripping the sheets, his knuckles white. Practically grinning like a cheshire cat, Beverly grips his hips as she runs the tip of her nose from the base to the head of his rock hard penis, then rapidly reverses, nuzzling his testicles. A bead of pearl liquid appears and Beverly scoops it up with the tip of her tongue, eliciting a pitiful groan from Jean-Luc.

Taking his turgid member in hand, Beverly’s tongue darts out to flick lightly over  
his head, languidly roving over the rim and frenulum. Wetting the glans, Beverly brings her lips over him and firmly slides them over the head and repeats, exploring the slit, all the while squeezing his shaft firmly in her hand. Curiously casting another glance up, Beverly is treated to the delightful sight of the normally stalwart captain absolutely awash in ecstasy, his mouth open and panting, his head lolled back. Taking him inch by inch, slowly into her hot mouth, Beverly resumes her oral caress, engulfing Jean-Luc’s large, throbbing penis. Keeping two fingers and a thumb at the base of his penis, Beverly uses her other hand to stroke his testicles, driving him remorselessly. Groaning loudly, Jean-Luc entangles his hands in her hair, clutching for Beverly’s head. The want, the need for her is so strong he can only imagine he will explode. He has to have her, to be inside her now. Never before had he wanted or required anything as much as he had wanted Beverly in this moment. 

Languidly stroking his shaft, she sucks the head, knowing, feeling the desperation, the need surging between them, just begging for release. She knows. She knows what he’s been through. The hurt, the exhaustion, the pain. All she wants is to make it stop, make it end. All she wants is to be able to heal him. The heady, sexual aroma, combined with the taste of their sweat is entirely intoxicating as she sucks and caresses him, determined to bring them both the closure and release they need so much. Grasping her hair, Jean-Luc finally finds his voice, shaking his head. 

“Beverly, please. Stop,” grunts Jean-Luc,”screwing his eyes shut tight.

Releasing her grip and withdrawing her mouth, Beverly straightens, bestowing a light kiss to the space between his hips.

“God, Beverly,” cries Jean-Luc, reaching for her face. 

Sliding her body up his, Beverly blazes a trail of kisses as Jean-Luc snakes his hands around her lower back, gripping her painfully. 

“I want you,” growls Jean-Luc, burying his hands in her hair, capturing her lips once again.

Aligning their hips, Beverly returns the kiss with vigour. “Love me.”

Jean-Luc is reaching the limit of his endurance, and Beverly’s own desire is sky-rocketing. Jean-Luc slides his hand down her back, kissing her tenderly. As their tongues entwine, Beverly lifts his erection and positions him inside her, gasping at the sensation as he infiltrates her hot depths. Jean-Luc reaches for her breasts, moulding and cupping them, tweaking her taught nipples. Leaning forward, she presents him with a chance to take her breasts with his hot mouth, and sighs his name in appreciation when he takes a puckered nipple between his teeth. One hand continues its work on her breast while the other meanders down to the centre of their joined desire. Stroking her languidly, Jean-Luc parts her lips, feeling his fingers wet around the girth of his own shaft. Swapping his lips to the neglected breast, Jean-Luc nips her lightly as his thumb massages her swollen clitoris. Beverly jerks and grinds her hips to his, mewling aloud at the pure pleasure. 

With his hands caressing up and down her sides, Jean-Luc thrusts deeply, gripping her fiercely. Beverly lifts her hips in response, meeting each thrust, their chests rising and falling, sweat slick across their over-heated bodies. They try to take it slow, each revelling in the sensations, never wanting the experience to end. But, Jean-Luc wants the release so badly every fibre in his being aches. The need, the ache is so over-powering he’s screaming, inside and out. 

Squeezing her nipples in rhythm with their thrusts, Jean-Luc makes Beverly moan and cry out in ecstasy. He makes her quiver with a feather light touch down her abdomen, the pulses travelling directly to his engorged penis as he thrusts in and out of her. Arching her back, Beverly gyrates and twists from side to side, sensuously. Grunting his approval, Jean-Luc thrusts harder, faster, impossibly deeper. He moves one hand to her breast, the other to her bloated clitoris,  
just glazing over it in time with the movement of their thrusts.

Feeling the sudden wave signalling her climax, Beverly cries out, grinding her hips to his ,gyrating continuously as the fantastic uplift of her orgasm increases as he grasps her waist and continues to thrust harder and deeper. Beverly’s orgasm is Jean-Luc’s own unravelling, as her internal muscles rhythmically clench him, causing him to release . Pumping his semen into her, Beverly’s name is torn from his lips as chokes back a sob, the sensations entirely overwhelming him. Collapsing onto his chest, Beverly buries her head in his shoulder, panting for breath. As they struggle to regain their breath and calm their hearts, they lay trembling in each other's arms as the aftershocks pass through them. Gradually they recover, minds buzzing with the sensations of everything they had experienced. 

 

One hand rubbing circles aimlessly across her back, Jean-Luc buries his other hand in her hair, tilting his head to pepper kisses along her neck. “Beverly….That was…Beverly, thank you.”

Rotating her neck, Beverly grins into his cheek, fighting exhaustion, but entirely content and warm atop of him. “Yes. It was.”

Sighing in contentment, Jean-Luc kisses her cheek. A hard lump forms in his throat, and in a thick, rasp voice he attempts to convey his sentiment in the moment. “Beverly, I lo…”

“Shsh,” Beverly presses her lips to his, cutting him off. “Close your eyes. You need to sleep.”

Weaving his hand in her hair, Jean-Luc, caresses her buttocks. “Yes, but…”

Smiling against his lips, Beverly squeezes his arm soothingly. “I’m here, Jean-Luc. And, I’m fine. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Exhaling in relief, Jean-Luc’s eyes flicker closed. “I love you.”

Closing her eyes, Beverly lays her head against his shoulder, pressing her lips to his warm flesh, hot tears pooling in her eyes. “I love you, too.”


End file.
